Nosebleed

As a child, I got a lot of nosebleeds. This was in part attributed to the fact that I was a picker, part because of dry air, and .05% of incidents were because of line drives to the face from a solid Fisher Price wiffleball resulting in a broken nose at age 4.

Anywho, this brings me to a more recent nosebleed occurrance.

It was an icy winter night during my freshman year of college. I was taking the T (for those of you who aren't familiar with this vernacular, the "T" is the Massachusetts/Boston transit system, usually the subway -- A glistening beacon of punctuality and cleanliness) back towards school, when I randomly got a nosebleed.

Now, as some of you may know, blood isn't really easily detectable by touch. It's pretty much the same temperature as skin, so if you're bleeding and you can't see it, you usually dont know it's happening unless pain is involved. Since it was a random nosebleed, I had no idea it was happening. The dry air must have gotten the best of Mr. Shnoz (sounds like a friendly Indian man's name...?), and he began producing quite the waterfall down my face.

At that point, I had no idea what was going on. I was staring at my dim reflection in the window across from me (which of course wasn't vibrant enough to show the blood now streaming down my face and sweatshirt), humming in my head something probably like, "doot doot doo on the fuckin T wanna be back at school bluh bluh it smells like piss in here". I felt a little tickling sensation on my upper lip, so I wiped my face. As I was doing so, I saw something dark drip onto my backpack which I had just placed between my legs. Confused, I caught a glimpse of my hand as I was brining it back to my side, and it looked a little something like this:

Naturally, I was shocked. My instinct was to then keep wiping my face to see if there was more blood. I got it all over my hands and both sleeves, and it had dripped down my shirt all over my pants and backpack. It was at this point that I realized that everyone in the traincar was probably intently watching this all unfold, without making a peep. I began laughing.

It wasn't any normal kind of laughter, it was one of those rare occasions where you start off with a closed-mouth, light chuckle, and work your way up to a disconcerting cackle.

Everyone on the T looked horrified - as they should've. I'd be concerned for my safety if I saw someone like that. I couldn't help but continue laughing. Psychopath.

I eventually got off the T, still laughing, and made my way back to school, stepping in an extremely deep puddle along the way. Pants soaked, covered in blood, STILL laughing as I got to my room... The look on my roomates' faces were priceless. I just wish a small child was on the T that night.